


a collection of dust, afterimages, and faint shadows

by jj_blues



Series: there's nothing to be afraid of [1]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Urban Fantasy, Gen, Injury, Magic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-08
Updated: 2020-05-08
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:09:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24073477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jj_blues/pseuds/jj_blues
Summary: Tim is twelve years old when Dick drags him to the Middle East to save Jason.
Relationships: Dick Grayson & Jason Todd, Tim Drake & Dick Grayson, Tim Drake & Dick Grayson & Jason Todd, Tim Drake & Jason Todd
Series: there's nothing to be afraid of [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1736926
Comments: 2
Kudos: 169





	a collection of dust, afterimages, and faint shadows

**Author's Note:**

> A peri is a mythical superb ring originally represented as evil, but subsequently as a good or graceful genie or fairy. Tarout is an island located at the eastern side of Saudi Arabia.

" - think we're safe now? 'Cause if I die because of the goddamn heat, I _swear_..."

Tim slowed down, and reached up to flick his wrist. The temperature dropped. Cold air wafted past his face. He sucked in a deep breath.

Beside him, he could hear Jason, and Dick skid to a halt. "Fuck. Thanks, Timbo."

"Ditto, Timmy."

"You're welcome," he said. "And we're here, you guys."

They reached the edge of the parking lot. He snapped his fingers to lift the concealment spell. The air rippled, revealing their ride back to Gotham.

Jason let out a low wolf-whistle. "Holy shit. Can't believe you brought the newest model to rescue good ol' me."

"I know," Tim said. 

Dick had "borrowed" the Wayne Aviation SlipStream, and had Tim cast the basic wards around it, just in case.

"Christ, I can't wait to see the look on B's face - "

Vivid green eyes flashed in his vision. 

_Tim could hear the peri sales lady asking if he wants anything, but he can't turn around. It's like his body had betrayed him. Like he's been struck by a stun spell, or a succubus was holding him down, or... or..._

The kid was using magic to paralyze him.

_As if he's read his mind, the kid raised an eyebrow, and wow, he really does look like Mr Wayne. If Mr Wayne had green eyes, tan skin, and been de-aged to about six years old. Come to think of it, Mr Wayne arches his eyebrow the same way, doesn't he? ___

____

____

"Timbo?" Jason's voice snapped him back to reality. "You okay?"

"Yeah." He nodded, pushing the image of the young, green-eyed Mr Wayne out of his mind. It was probably just a hallucination. Or a doppelgänger. Though, if a doppelgänger could be a different age from the being they impersonated, he'll have to check with Ms Gordon.

All of a sudden, the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. He whirled around, extending his hand -

"Shit, look out!"

His staff snapped into existence. Grasping the handle, Tim stepped forward, and slashed at the air. The familiar blue barrier materialized out in front of him, disintegrating the knife into a pile of ashes. He lowered his staff. A tingling sensation prickled against his skin. He swallowed, and glanced at Dick.

Dick's mouth was pressed into a thin line. "Timmy, set up the wards, please."

Okay, so Dick could feel it, too.

"Gotcha." With a nod, he began to murmur the incantation to the concealment spells. 

After a few seconds, the wards slipped into place, effectively blocking their side of the parking lot from mortal eyes - Wayne Aviation SlipStream included. They really didn't want to be greeted with Mr Pennyworth's disappointed face if news of the Wayne, and Drake heirs picking a fight in Saudi Arabia trended all over Twitter.

Tim jerked his head up at the sharp clink of stilettos. 

Dick gave a sharp intake of breath. "Talia."

"Richard Wayne." The woman, Talia, nodded. Tim bit his lip. This Talia woman reminded him of his mother, only more... _evil _. "I believe you have something of mine."__

____

____

"Fuck off, bitch."

Her gaze flickered to Jason. "Now, now. Is that any way to treat the person who saved you?" 

"You didn't - you're not even...!" Jason sputtered.

"Enough." 

Tim tensed at Dick's cold tone. Richie Wayne might have been branded as the more easygoing Wayne heir by the papparazzi, but Tim knew he had a temper worse than Jason's when his friends and family were involved. 

"Leave, Talia, or I swear on both of the Courts I wouldn't wait for Timmy set you on fire." As if to prove his point, the space around her crackled with magic. 

But Talia just clicked her tongue, like the weight of Dick's words meant nothing to her. "You should count yourself lucky I'm not in the mood for a feeding spree, fae." Tim's breath caught in his throat. _Feeding spree?_ "Nevertheless, I have gotten what I came for. It's been a pleasure meeting you, Richard, Jason, and Timothy."

Chills went up his spine. How did she know his...?

But the woman just gave another curt nod, and turned on her heel.

Jason exhaled, reaching up to run a trembling hand over his hair. "Fuck, thank God - "

Tim saw the movement out of the corner of his eye. Acting on instinct, he threw a spell to deflect it, but it was too late. The knives pierced through his half-formed barrier like bullets through paper, plunging directly into Jason's chest. 

Jason staggered backwards, swaying on his feet. Red began to seep through his shirt. He opened his mouth to say something, before his legs gave away, and he toppled to the ground.

Tim might've screamed.

He barely remembered dropping to his knees, mind reeling at the fact it all happened too fast, _oh God_ , Jason might be dead. Barely remembered how his hands trembled as he reached out to wrap his magic around the knives, gave an experimental tug, and almost vomited at the squelching sound when they broke free.

Limbs on auto-pilot, he placed his palm on the nearest gash, forced himself to concentrate on stemming the flow, like how Ms Thompson taught him, but... it wasn't stopping. 

Blood continued to ooze, staining his already red fingers, and - _why wasn't it stopping?_ He urged his magic deeper, tried to soothe the tension - 

"Tim."

He froze at the voice. Heartbeat hammering in his eardrums, he looked up.

Ra's al Ghul. Oh, God. What was _he_ doing here? He's supposed to be dead. They killed him. Tarout went up in flames. He shouldn't have made it out alive. He's supposed to be dead. They killed him - 

"Timmy. Timmy, hey. It's okay." The glamour shifted to reveal Dick. "I had to subdue her. Thought if I look like Ra's, she'd be less likely to hurt me."

He took a deep, shuddering breath, suddenly wanting nothing more than to curl up in the most comfortable couch at Wayne Manor, with Mr Pennyworth's hot cocoa, far, far away from here. "But did she?" 

Dick mustered a weak smile. "You can look over me after you're done with Jaybird."

"Jay. Right." He lowered his staff, and turned his attention back to Jason 

"I'm fine, Dickie."

The staff slipped from his grasp. What...?

Jason sat up, brushing off the dust from his shirt like four knives to the ribs was nothing when it should've killed him. 

Again, _what?_

Not that Tim wanted him to die, of course, it's just the whole thing should've been impossible, unless...

Unless...

"You're undead," he whispered. It made sense, why his magic didn't work. Tim specialized in technomancy and healing, not necromancy.

"But ghouls can't turn humans into vampires!" Dick's voice rose an octave higher. "Besides, the al Ghuls dabble in a different kind of magic..." he trailed off. "No. No, no, _no_. Jay, answer me honestly. Did you take a swim in a Lazarus Pit?"

As soon as the question left Dick's mouth, Jason's blue eyes flashed green. 

Fear coiled in Tim's gut. He'd read about Lazarus Pits in the library back home. The authors mentioned something about the Pit Madness in the footnotes, how people could become crazy when exposed to the magical waters.

"What's it to you, huh, Dickie? In case you forgot, you were the ones who left me for dead with the damn clown - "

_"Jason."_

Tim flinched at Dick's reproachful tone. He knew Dick didn't really squeeze much of his magic into the word, or else Jason would've been groveling at their feet right now, but it was enough for the fight to leave Jason's shoulders. 

Jason sagged against Dick, who wrapped an arm around his waist, pulling him closer to himself. "I didn't have a choice, Dick. The bastard agreed to revive me in exchange for my soul."

"Fuck," Dick said. Tim privately couldn't have agreed more. "Little Wing, I'm so, so sorry."

"'S 'kay. I'm here now, ain't I? And Timmy..." Jason met his gaze. "You kicked his ass good. The bastard wouldn't be able to reform from that."

His cheeks grew warm at the praise. God, he hoped Ra's wouldn't come back. Immortal or not, Ra's was still a jinn, and jinns were still weak to fire. There's no way he would've survived the inferno Tim had conjured.

"C'mere, Timbo. Don't think you can get outta the hug."


End file.
